Removal

On my return the fox was gone;
replaced by sand.
The mother and child had left
as well, taking
souvenirs of fear.

A man from the council
must lift weight into a van.
That’s fair,
but why not us?

Load him up,
throw down some sand,
sling him out the other end
and turn the burners on.

(This poem appears in Prole Poetry and Prose #12)

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